John Deane of Nottingham Part 22

Jack listened with great interest to this account.

"I was acquainted a few years ago with an English merchant at Norwich, one Mr Gournay, who has been very kind to the Huguenots; and as he has correspondents in all parts of the country, and throughout Holland also, and many other places on the Continent, if you will tell me your name, and describe your wife and child, I will write to him, and I have no doubt that he will make inquiries in that direction for you," he said.

"Thank you, thank you, my kind friend!" said the wounded man. "Your promise gives me hopes which I dared not before entertain. My name is De Mertens. My dear wife was tall and graceful, and noted for her beauty, and our little girl was called Elise, or, as you would call her in England, Elizabeth."

"This is indeed very strange!" exclaimed Jack; "for I met a lady at the house of the very gentleman I spoke of--Mr Gournay--who told me that her name was De Mertens, and that her husband had been carried off to the galleys, while, I grieve to tell you, for it will pain you much to hear it, the little girl had been s.n.a.t.c.hed away from her just as she was embarking, and since then she has been unable to gather any tidings of her. She begged me to make inquiries, which I did as far as I was able, but circ.u.mstances compelled me to leave the country soon afterwards, and I was not able to gather any clue to her lost child."

"My wife still alive! and under the charge of kind friends!" exclaimed the wounded man, sitting up. "This is indeed joyful news! though alas that it should not be without its alloy! Yet the kind Providence which has preserved my wife, may have preserved our child to be restored to us. But what do I see, young man?" he exclaimed, seizing Jack's hand.

"Let me look at that ring on your finger. It is strange that it should be there. Did my wife give it you?"

"No," replied Jack, somewhat astonished; "I did not receive it till some time after I last saw Madame de Mertens. It was given to me by a young girl, the daughter of a farmer and his wife, at whose house I was residing for some time. She was a sweet, dear little girl; and when I came away she told me that she had nothing else to give, and she insisted on placing that ring on my finger. She said she had worn it round her own neck since she was a child, and though she valued it greatly, she should be unhappy if I would not take it. Directly after I received it I purposed restoring it to her, as I did not think it right to deprive her of it, but was unable again to return to the farm before I came away to sea."

"This is indeed wonderful!" exclaimed Monsieur de Mertens. "Oh, let me entreat you to describe the little girl to me!"

Jack did so, and did not draw an unfavourable picture.

"The description is indeed like what I should suppose my sweet little girl to be by this time. Fair, with bright blue eyes, light hair, and gentle, winning manners; but you tell me that she was the daughter of a farmer and his wife?"

"For such she always pa.s.sed," answered Jack; "but often I thought so rough a man as the farmer could not have so sweet and gentle a child; and from what I have since heard, I am inclined to believe that she was not really their child."

"Oh, no, no, I am sure she was not!" exclaimed Monsieur de Mertens, clasping his hands. "She must be my own dear little daughter! Oh, what joy and happiness it will be to see her again with her dear mother."

"If I can possibly get leave when we go into port, I will promise to accompany you to Norwich, where you will, I trust, find Madame de Mertens; and after that we will pay a visit to the fens and ascertain if little Elizabeth Pearson is really or not your child," said Deane.

"Thank you, thank you!" answered De Mertens. "But let me look at that ring again. I cannot be mistaken about it!"

Jack took off the ring, which De Mertens eagerly examined.

"Yes, yes!" he exclaimed; "it is one I myself gave her mother, telling her that it was an heirloom, and that she should bestow it upon her daughter. I doubt not that she fastened it round her neck before she fled from home, that should she and the child be separated, she might again recognise her by it. And you say the little girl you met was called Elizabeth? That would be the name of my dear child in English, and as she could speak quite clearly at the time of our separation, she would certainly have told those into whose hands she fell her Christian name, though it is possible that she might not have known the name of her parents."

As may be supposed, after this interesting conversation, Jack and Monsieur de Mertens constantly discussed the subject as they sailed up the Channel. At length the Isle of Wight hove in sight. Each well-known point and headland, village and town, was welcomed, as the frigate ran round the back of that lovely island, and at length anch.o.r.ed at Spithead.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

VISIT TO NORWICH AND TO THE FARM AT THE FENS--A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT.

As soon as the ship was paid off, Jack took his new friend on sh.o.r.e, and procured for him a proper costume and other necessaries. He had himself a considerable amount of prize-money to receive, and instead of spending it as did many of his shipmates, throwing it away lavishly on every side, he visited the nearest horse dealer's in order to purchase a couple of stout animals to carry him and Monsieur de Mertens on their way. The horse dealer was rather astonished when the naval officer, whom he naturally supposed knew as much about horse-flesh as he himself did about the management of a ship, indignantly refused a couple of spavined animals which he offered for sale. Several others were brought forward, which Jack in like manner rejected. At length he fixed upon two beasts which, after pa.s.sing his hands over their shoulders and down their legs, he thought might suit for the purpose of carrying them safe to Norwich, and from thence on to Master Pearson's farm.

"The finest animals in my stud!" exclaimed the horse dealer, as Jack ordered them to be led out. "Fit for chargers for the Duke of Marlborough himself, or suited to carry any n.o.blemen as hunters across the country."

"I have not so long ploughed salt water as not to know something about ploughing the land," answered Jack; "don't you see the hay-seed still in my hair? Come, come, Mr Crupper, the horses will carry us along the roads without coming down on their knees at a decent pace, and if you like to take the sum I offer, we'll have them, if not, we will soon go and seek another dealer who is not so ready to pa.s.s off his broken-kneed beasts on poor ignorant 'Jack-tars.'"

The dealer, seeing that Jack was not to be taken in, at length agreed to the price offered.

In a short time, with their valises strapped to their saddles, their pistols in their holsters, with serviceable swords by their sides, the travellers took their way towards London. In those days not a few highwaymen beset the roads, especially those leading from the chief naval ports to London, as they were pretty certain of finding seamen and officers travelling up and down--those travelling towards the metropolis, generally with an ample supply of cash in their pockets.

Hounslow Heath, over which they had to pa.s.s, was one of the spots most frequented by those knights of the highway. It did not matter much that the horses possessed but little speed, as De Mertens, not having ridden for so many years, was unable to proceed at a fast rate; and even Jack found that it was far pleasanter not to attempt going as fast as he would once have wished to have gone over the road. They were therefore obliged to sleep at an inn about half-way between Portsmouth and London, hoping to get into the big city at an early hour the next day. Jack's chief puzzle was to know where to find a lodging. As may be supposed, he had no fancy to go back to the only one he knew of at Hammersmith, although on their way they should pa.s.s not far from it. He felt very sure, however, that he might do so without any risk of being discovered, for instead of the rosy-cheeked lad he then was, he now wore a full black beard, while his countenance was thoroughly well bronzed, and there was a bold, dashing look about him which often marked the naval officer of those days who had seen hard service. As De Mertens had no wish to remain in London, they agreed to pa.s.s through the city, and to stop for the night at Hertford, or some other town to the north of it.

On pa.s.sing across Hounslow Heath they encountered more than one suspicious-looking gentleman, armed to the teeth, and mounted on a strong active horse. But probably Jack's appearance made the highwayman, if such he was, think it more prudent to allow the travellers to pa.s.s unquestioned. That sort of gentry, even in those days, in spite of all their boasting, were generally cowards at heart, and took good care not to attack those whom they did not feel sure they could intimidate or overcome without difficulty.

Jack did his best to keep up the spirits of poor Monsieur de Mertens, who as he approached Norwich became more and more-nervous, dreading to hear that some accident had happened to his wife--that she was ill, or perhaps had died. Then he dreaded the effect which his sudden return might have on her; and more than all he pictured to himself her sorrow, when at their meeting she would be unable to present to him their beloved child.

On reaching Norwich Jack took his companion to the inn at which he had put up with Will Brinsmead, and begged him to remain there while he himself went on to the house of Mr Gournay, that he might prepare Madame de Mertens for his appearance.

Jack now began to feel very nervous himself. He would ten times rather have boarded a French ship, with pistols flashing and cold steel flourishing round his head, than go through the necessary interview with the wife of his friend. He first made his way to Mr Gournay's counting-house, that he might inquire for his intended brother-in-law Giles Dainsforth. Mr Gournay himself had returned home, but the clerks were still there. Giles Dainsforth was not among them.

"Oh, did you not know that he left us last year to go to Nottingham, to be married to Mr Deane's daughter? They sailed some time since for Mr Penn's new colony in America, which they call Pennsylvania," was the answer. "Several friends have gone out there from thence, and it's one of the most flourishing settlements in the New World."

Jack accordingly hastened to Mr Gournay's residence, and first asked to see Mrs Gournay. She received Jack very kindly, though she expressed her regret at finding that he was following a profession in which he was likely to shed the blood of his fellow-creatures.

"Young man, thou hadst better have taken a quill in thine hand, to labour as a clerk in a counting-house, or have remained a drover to conduct cattle up and down the country, than used a sword to deface G.o.d's image, as I fear too often thou must have done."

Jack did not wish to argue the point, but he a.s.sured her that he had no pleasure in killing his fellow-creatures, and that he had the consolation of believing that the navy had been the means of preventing a Popish King from coming over and re-establishing papacy in the country; and that he also in his humble way had been of some benefit to his fellow-creatures. "For instance," he said, "I was the means not long since of saving the life of a gentleman, a French Protestant, whom I have brought with me to see you."

Jack then explained who his companion was. Good Mrs Gournay was overjoyed.

"Mr Deane," she said, "we must break it gently to dear Madame de Mertens. She has been, especially lately, in delicate health, and any sudden surprise might be injurious to her. I will go and gradually tell her of what has occurred, and do you return to the inn and bring Monsieur de Mertens here. By the time that he arrives, it may probably be safe to allow them to meet."

It was very long since Jack had trod the ground with the elastic step with which he hastened back to bring his friend to Mr Gournay's house.

He felt, indeed, very proud at the thought that he should thus have been the means of restoring two loving hearts to each other, and still more proud he felt he should be if he could discover their long-lost child.

This he had great hopes of doing. And as he thought of Elizabeth Pearson's manner, her way of speaking, and many other little circ.u.mstances, he recollected that her accent was somewhat that of a foreigner. There was an intelligence and refinement, too, which he should not have expected to find in a young girl in her position in life, except, however, that Dame Pearson was herself very superior to any farmer's wife he had ever met, and was evidently a person who had belonged to a higher rank of society. He was also sacrificing himself for the good of others, for had he been left to his own disposal, he would, in the first place, have hastened on to Nottingham to enjoy the society of his own family, and, more than all, as he thought, to renew his acquaintance with Alethea Harwood. Often and often had her lovely countenance risen up before him, and he had enjoyed the hope that she would one day become his. At the same time it must be owned that another sweet face frequently presented itself before him, and though he had never a.s.sociated it with the thought of love, yet surely it was one which must of necessity be very dear to him. It was that of little Elizabeth Pearson, so gentle, so bright and intelligent, and so confiding! He had now arranged to go and visit her, not for his own satisfaction, but for that of the friends who had hopes of discovering in her their long-lost daughter.

Leaving Mistress Gournay, Jack hurried back through the narrow streets of Norwich to the Bear Inn, where he found Monsieur de Mertens anxiously waiting for him. His friend trembled as he took his arm and led him out of the house.

"A kind friend will inform your wife of your arrival, and by the time we reach her house Madame de Mertens will, I trust, be prepared to receive you," said Jack.

"But she will, I fear, scarcely know me," said the poor man. "You cannot tell how anxiety of mind and physical hardships have changed me.

When we parted I was young, and full of life and spirits, and now my hair is grey, the colour has left my cheeks, and I tremble in every limb!"

Jack tried to console him by a.s.suring him that he had greatly improved in his appearance since he had been freed from the galley, and that he was sure his wife would know him by the expression of his countenance and the tone of his voice, even should she discover the change of which he spoke.

"Alas!" he said, "our joyful meeting must, however, be tinged with sorrow when she cannot present to me our dear child. May Heaven grant that through your a.s.sistance, my kind friend, that dear one may still be restored to us!"

"I have little doubt about it, my dear sir," answered Jack, who was not apt to indulge in what he called the "sentimental mood."

"I am sure that if little Elizabeth Pearson turns out to be your daughter, you will have reason to be thankful, even though she may not be the polished young lady she would have been had she remained under the charge of her mother."

Thus conversing they reached the door of Mr Gournay's mansion, and Jack had almost to drag in his poor friend, who appeared totally overcome by the agitation of the expected meeting. Mrs Gournay had kindly stationed a servant at the door to open it as soon as they were seen coming up the steps. She herself then came down, and taking Monsieur de Mertens by the hand, led him forward to the room where she said his wife was waiting to receive him.

The meeting need not be described, nor does it matter much whether the affectionate husband and wife thought each other greatly changed. It was not until they had been some time together that Madame de Mertens ventured to speak of their long-lost daughter; and then she heard with grateful joy that her husband entertained a hope of her recovery, with the aid of John Deane. When her husband showed her the ring which Jack had given him, and which she herself had fastened round her child's neck, all doubt as to the fact of Elizabeth Pearson being their child, vanished. Both she and her husband were eager at once to set out to the farm in the fens; but good mistress Gournay would not hear of her commencing so fatiguing a journey, nor was her husband indeed at all fit to undertake it at that time. Jack offered to go alone, but of that Monsieur de Mertens would not hear. It was finally settled that they should start together after a day's rest.

The two horses which had brought them to Norwich not being well suited for the continuance of the journey, Mr Gournay placed at their disposal two of the strongest animals he could procure. He also prepared a palfrey, and directed a groom to accompany it, that Elizabeth might be able to return without delay to the arms of her mother. When the hour arrived for their departure, Monsieur de Mertens declared himself fully able to undertake the journey, and urged Jack to push on over the roads as fast as their horses could go, so eager was he naturally to solve any remaining doubts with regard to the existence of his long-lost child.

Jack had been so thoroughly acquainted with all the country round the farm, that as he approached the neighbourhood of it, where the high-road ceased and the devious tracks across the marshy land commenced, he had no difficulty in finding his way. He heard, however, that since he had been there engineers had come over from Holland, and were engaged with large gangs of workmen in draining the fen-country. He was able to traverse, therefore, many places which had before been impa.s.sable, and deep ca.n.a.ls had been cut through others, which could only be pa.s.sed by means of wooden bridges at considerable distances from each other.

Still he felt sure that he could not mistake his way to the farm. The nearer, however, he approached the spot where he expected to find it, the greater difficulty did he experience in making his way. Several times he had to pull up his horse, and look around him to consider which direction he should take. Whenever he thought he was right, he pushed on across the country. Although there were many hard places, there were still many wide districts of fen-land, in no way changed in appearance to what it had been when he left it, and often with difficulty he avoided riding into bogs, out of which it would have been almost impossible to extricate the horses. At length, to his great satisfaction, he reached a group of willows which he remembered well.

He was now sure that he could not be mistaken. His own heart beat quick. He saw by the working of Monsieur de Merten's countenance the agitation with which he suffered, as at length he pointed out to him in the far distance the trees which grew round the farm-house to which they were bound. Jack took the lead, his companion following close behind him. Already he could distinguish the windows of the house, and he expected every moment to see the old dogs, which once knew him so well, come out barking loudly, and then when they should recognise him, leap up, as they had been accustomed to do, and lick his hands. He hoped to see Dame Pearson or Elizabeth appear at the door, attracted by the noise, to observe the approaching hors.e.m.e.n. In vain he waited however.

Not a sound was heard. No barking of dogs, either in anger or in welcome, reached his ears. As he advanced his heart began to sink.

There was an air of desolation about the place which it had never been accustomed to wear. No cattle were to be seen in the neighbouring meadow. Many of the fences were thrown down. There were no fowls in the farm-yard. No pigeons circled around the barn. An ominous silence reigned over the place. Still he went on. He felt that he must speak to his friend. Yet it seemed to him almost cruel to utter the words which he had to say.